Chapter 16
Maeve hadn’t been so preoccupied with memories of a steamy tryst in…quite a while, perhaps ever. Her body still tingled with the aftermath of Soren’s touch even the morning after, and she positively floated through her morning ablutions, breakfast, and walk to school.
Fates, if she let herself think about it for more than a moment, the phantom sensation of his tongue swept across her center, throwing off her balance.
She’d been touched and kissed down there before, by lovers more practiced, more skilled, but never so enthusiastically.
Maeve hadn’t bothered expecting it from partners—why would she want to lay there knowing he was doing it only so she’d reciprocate when she could bring herself more pleasure with her own hand?
Maeve wanted enthusiasm, to have her partner lose himself, and that was happening for neither of them if he viewed oral stimulation on her as a chore to be done.
Whereas Soren…Maeve shivered as she set down the little bundle of her luncheon on her desk. He touched her as though he meant to devour her, like he couldn’t get enough.
I want that again. Badly.
Perhaps it’d been safer not to know what she’d been missing, but for now, it was all she could think of.
She could hardly keep her focus through morning lessons. More than once, Kiri or Liese had to remind her where they were in the lecture.
“Are you all right, miss?” asked Liese finally.
Was she? Maeve didn’t feel quite right. A needy sort of desperation had lodged in her lower belly, an ache that wouldn’t subside. Every spare thought was of Soren and what they’d done together, making the ache even worse.
Fates, this was starting to feel out of control again. It wasn’t reassuring, but then again, she didn’t dislike it as much as before. Ache and long as she did, there was still something delicious about it.
At luncheon, as the children played rowdily on the green, Maeve spotted a familiar tail swishing on the other side of the open shed door. Jumping up, lunch forgotten, Maeve hustled over, none of the children paying her any mind.
Poking around the shed, she found Soren’s broad back turned to her as he put away gardening implements.
He had to have heard her coming, his ears turned backward to track the sound of her footsteps, but Maeve still couldn’t help ducking to catch that swishing tail. A choked sound caught in his throat, and Soren jerked around.
Her playfulness fell away at the sight of him. Need throbbed between her legs as she stepped in closer, dropping his tail to run her hands up his chest. It was a travesty she hadn’t seen him totally bare yet and decided that’s what she wanted—after.
“Miss Maeve…” he rumbled, even as a paw came up to hold her by the waist.
“I need you to do that thing with your tongue again,” she said without preamble. She needed it something fierce.
His thick brows rose, and for half a moment, Maeve waited with expectant dread for that smug, arrogant look to overcome his face, the one men got when they knew a woman wanted something from them. Maeve hated that expression, hated how it made her feel the loser and the man a winner somehow.
Soren made no such expression, though. Instead, he nodded, mien serious. He ran his claws through her hair, pushing it back and cradling her head as he pulled her closer.
“Whatever you need.”
Oh.
Just like that, her desperation turned to anticipation. The wicked edge of it softened into something far more languid and pleasurable.
Held tight to his warmth, Maeve enjoyed the simple, profound sensation of being held. Fates, this had never felt so good before.
“Will you kiss me?” she whispered. “To tide me over?”
He considered her a moment, his claws gently digging in at her waist and head. Her pulse fluttered to feel the small pricks.
His gaze flicked over her head, assessing whether any of the children had noticed them no doubt. Maeve thought he was about to deny her when his head dipped to level their gazes.
Her heart actually skipped a beat as she watched his slitted pupils dilate.
“You’ll have to teach me,” he murmured, green eyes falling to her lips.
“With pleasure.”
Closing the distance, Maeve lightly pressed her mouth to his.
Starting with a gentle touch, she teased him with ephemeral kisses, little pecks and presses around his mouth.
The middle of his upper lip was particularly sensitive, at the bases of his many whiskers.
A purr rattled to life in his chest as she kissed either side before bestowing one on his nose.
His paw at her waist began to knead, and he drew her even closer, pressing her tightly to him from chest to knee. She adored the deep groan he poured into her mouth as he followed her lead.
In no time, Maeve lost track of everything else.
There was only the two of them and where they were connected.
She breathed for the warm slide of their mouths, she lived for the gentle pressure of his lips against hers.
Although unpracticed, Soren took instruction well.
Diligent and patient as ever, he learned not just to follow but to experiment.
When he dared dip his tongue into her mouth, Maeve hummed in approval, adjusting the angle of her head to allow him deeper. She heard his sharp inhale, and then he was plundering her mouth, licking and claiming from the inside out. It reminded her of how he’d lavished her cunt the previous night.
Fates, if she wasn’t careful, she’d insist he take her right here in the shed.
As though he had a similar thought, Soren lifted his head with a groan. His pupils were still large, though, and he still held her fast, as if reluctant to truly let go.
“Maeve,” he murmured, dropping his forehead onto hers.
“That was perfect,” she praised, smoothing a hand over his cheek.
“Enket at inan,” he sighed.
“What does that mean?”
“A plea—for the goddess to take me.”
“Hmm,” she hummed against his lips. “Your goddess will have to wait.” For now, this sweet, delicious man was Maeve’s.
The rest of the day, including the evening adult class, went by interminably slowly, of course. Although her desperation had bloomed into anticipation, that longing sharpened as the afternoon wore on. She even dismissed class early and did her best not to be caught in conversation afterwards.
Taking Soren’s offered arm, they departed on their usual evening walk back to the estate. Yet, this time, anticipation held as tightly to her as she did to him. She counted their walk in steps and heartbeats, wondering when, when they could dart off the path and into each other’s arms.
He stopped sooner than she expected, but Maeve was ready when Soren turned to her. Lifting onto her toes, she eagerly awaited a kiss.
Instead, he nuzzled her cheek, the hollow behind her ear, and down her neck. At the crook, he whispered, “Will you come back with me? You deserve a bed at least.”
“I thought Kiri lived with you?”
“He’s staying with Balar and Imogen tonight.” Lifting her hand to his lips, Soren kissed the back tenderly. “Come with me?”
She didn’t mind their outdoor trysts at all—there was something to this sneaking about that added a layer of excitement. Still, how could she refuse such a sweet request? Four walls offered…opportunities. And it wasn’t like she’d be missed at supper.
Squeezing his hand, she said, “All right.”
A rare smile touched his lips, and with a nod, he turned them round. But before reaching the schoolhouse, they caught a narrow deer path through the forest. They used the waning light to pick their way through the trees, creeping upon Soren’s cabin from behind.
Maeve might’ve been offended to get smuggled into a man’s house around the back were it any other situation, but with Soren, it was different. Danann had just finished talking and speculating about them—why give it a reason to gossip again?
Yet, it was more than that. The way they breathlessly tip-toed through the trees, holding tightly to each other’s hands, gave her butterflies in her stomach.
Like they were naughty youths finding a quiet spot to share a forbidden first kiss.
Maeve had to press her free hand to her mouth to smother her giddy giggles.
They reached his cabin at twilight. Soren put his back to the exterior wall, leading her around the side. Her gallant sneak poked his head round the front to check if anyone was nearby or looking before pulling her quickly across the timber porch and through the front door.
All it took was a breathless moment, and as the door shut behind them, Maeve let out a whuffing exhale. Turning to Soren, she was prepared to be swept up in his arms and taken right to bed, but of course, this was her cautious Soren.
Rather than her, he was surveying his cabin critically. He did take her by the shoulders, but it was to turn her toward the wall.
Ooh, from behind? Perhaps he was naughtier than she gave him credit for.
“Give me a moment before you look,” he said instead, leaving Maeve to blink at the wall and listen to him hurriedly tidying.
She bit her lip against another wave of giggles. He was going to give her a toothache with his guileless sweetness.
Maeve couldn’t help a peek over her shoulder.
The cabin was small but orderly and contained everything a bachelor manticore might need.
A cobblestone fireplace dominated one wall, a cauldron set on a tripod hanging over the cold grate.
Two chairs sat by the fire, pulled from a set of five around a sturdy table.
Soren worked feverishly to clear up the pewter plates and cups, no doubt from that morning’s breakfast, cluttering one side, while the other end of the table held various whittling projects.
The handful of cabinets, trunks, and sideboard were hewn of a lovely dark wood. Although not elaborate, they were well made and polished to a warm shine. The ceiling was peaked, making the small space feel larger, and a collection of cushions and pillows softened the different seating options.